In the Garden of Eden
by Lady Elena Dawson
Summary: After Aria's unexpected death, Spencer and Ezra try to make peace with what they never got to say. Sparia/Ezria one-shot.


**A/N: Firstly, Happy Valentine's Day to all the couples and single people like me out there! I should be working on my multi-chapter stories, but I got so absorbed by this depressing idea that I just had to turn it into a one-shot. It takes place after the finale and you should bring your tissues. I also want to mention that this is dedicated to my friend Spomione (go look her up NOW, she's awesome and totally bawled at this story) for giving me feedback on this and encouraging me to keep going even when it was one in the morning and I was only at 5,000 words and still not close to finishing it.**

**Secondly, I will be writing some short Valentine's fluff, which I'll try to get started today but if not then tomorrow or Sunday.**

**Thirdly, how amazing was that black and white episode?! The promo for next week's ep totally traumatized me, though. Lucy Hale crying like that is, like, a stab in my heart. She's going to rock the rest of this season.**

* * *

**In the Garden of Eden**

_Please, open your eyes._

A pair of vibrant hazel eyes jerked open, surprised. White, blinding light made the pupils shrink in protest, and the young woman reached her pale arm above her head to block the blue sky and yellow sun shining above her. Groaning, she kept her eyes shut for a few seconds, waiting for her head to stop pounding.

That's when she realized she was lying on her back in a meadow of long grass. Peeking around, she wondered how she got there. Was it just a dream? She wasn't sure. The pain had subsided, and now all there was was levity. Her hand dropped down from her cool forehead and curled around a silver locket; she let out a pent-up breath as her fingers rubbed against the familiar engravings. Maybe this was real after all.

Slowly and reluctantly she pushed herself up into a sitting position, her fingers digging into the soft, moist soil. Another whisper, this time inaudible, emanated from the trees surrounding the grassy meadow, and she looked in the direction it came from. Nothing moved. She was all alone.

For a strange reason she couldn't explain, she wanted to cry, but the serene setting lulled her into a state of carelessness. Shakily, she stood up and wiped her dirtied hands on the white skirt of a dress she couldn't remember wearing. Then again, she replaced her closet frequently. The only real mystery was where she was.

Her feet were bare as she padded through the tall grass and into a thin forest of trees. She could detect the smell of wet wood and salt water, and she knew where she was headed the moment she heard the waves.

It was a beach—except there were no beaches in Rosewood. Where had it come from? She glanced down at her naked toes entwined in the grass and took a single step into the sand. It was like she was crossing a border, and once she completely transferred to the sand she would be past the point of no return. Turning around, she hesitated and moved her foot back onto the green terrain. She wasn't sure what she was looking for—a sign, maybe?—but she watched the forest and listened to the silence for a moment longer before taking that leap onto the shore.

As soon as both of her feet touched the sand, she realized it was the perfect temperature despite the sunny day. She left behind footprints as she kept walking, never again looking behind her at the woods that so resembled those in Rosewood. Her eyes were trained on the sparkling water, her ears on the soothing lapping of the waves, and eventually she stopped right near the edge and calmly sat down. Curling her legs into her chest, she propped her chin on her knees and watched the glittering of the sun's reflection on the water.

She could feel like she was waiting for something. Though for what, she wasn't sure. And after staying in that position for several hours, she couldn't find the will to stay.

But yet, by a strong force she couldn't define, she did.

…

Spencer Hastings was finding no joy in staring at her bedroom ceiling, but she couldn't find the courage to get up. She'd been lounging in her house all day for the past week, not even going to school. And it's not like her friends were going either, except unlike Spencer they were getting through it together. It was something Spencer couldn't comprehend at a moment like this, and all she wanted to do was be alone.

Sniffling, she noticed her eyes were watering again, blurring her vision. Angrily she rubbed them away, annoyed at her conflicting emotions. Sometimes she barely found the strength to live, and other times she wasn't sure any of it was real and that she would just wake up from a really bad dream. She woke up this morning feeling the latter.

With a sigh she rolled over onto her side and caught sight of the picture frame on her nightstand. Her lips fell and began to wobble, but before she could fall into another pit of despair she reached out and smacked the frame onto its face so that the picture was no longer staring at her, reminding her. She should have put that frame in the casket along with the other things she'd left behind. Her stomach growled but she didn't care; she burrowed deep into her pillow and closed her eyes, praying for sleep to overtake her.

However, her wishes were short-lived by a knocking at her door. "Spencer?" rang out the familiar voice of Toby. "Can I come in?"

There was no answer, yet Toby went in anyway. He held a mug of hot tea in one hand and a bag in the other. "It's me," he said while setting the cup next to the face-down picture. When Spencer didn't move, Toby put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Please drink something."

Blinking her eyes open, Spencer caved in and weakly scooted into a sitting position before taking a sip of the tea. It burned her tongue, but she didn't really care. "What's in the bag?" she asked, straight to the point. She knew she should have thanked Toby, but a lot of things had been slipping her mind lately.

Gulping, Toby unzipped it and reached his hand in. "I went to the Montgomery house today," he explained as dispassionately as he could, "and I asked for a few things. Her parents said I could take them." With that, he pulled out a book, a dart, and some other things that caused Spencer's brain to pound in confusion. She didn't recognize any of this.

Toby, noticing her obvious dilemma, cleared her throat awkwardly. "They told me Ezra hadn't been by yet, and I thought…" He trailed off and crumbled.

Spencer's nose twitched and she quickly rubbed it, begging the tears not to come. Her finger ran over the cover of the book, and she opened it to the first page. _When you need to leave Rosewood_…

After reading that, Spencer's heart shattered. She didn't want Toby to notice, though, so she shrugged it off and said, "Yeah, he hasn't really left his apartment since that night."

"You're a saint, Spence," Toby told her, reaching for her hand. "I can't imagine what he'd be going through if he was alone."

Spencer enjoyed the warmth radiating off of Toby's loving hand, but she snapped back after reminding herself that her friend would never feel a warm touch like that ever again. Gritting her teeth, she turned her attention back to the items sprawled out on her bed and ran her fingers over the maroon silk tie. "I'm not a saint," she mumbled.

"Yes, you are," Toby tried to convince her.

"How?" Spencer snapped, her eyes slightly crazed as they bore into Toby's sympathetic ones. She gestured to the book. "I could have prevented this. It was _my _fault that we were on that roof, and I'm dealing with the consequences. Hanna and Emily can mourn together because they were right not to believe me in the first place because all the evidence I had was an order of pie and beer!" Pausing, she aggressively wiped away her streaming tears and crumbled. "N-now," she stammered, barely able to keep speaking due to the level of hysteria she'd let herself get to. "_Now_ I have to go deliver these parting gifts to my best friend's boyfriend and see the pain on his face, the pain _I _caused. Because she's gone, Toby." Sobbing, she leaned her forehead on his shoulder. "And she's never coming back." A couple of choked sobs escaped her throat in a guttural sound. "Because of me, because I—"

"Spencer, stop," Toby forcefully, yet tenderly, commanded her. "I know she was your friend. She was mine too. But you have to think about the others too, okay? They feel just as guilty. Hanna, Emily, Ezra—they were all there. You had _no _idea what was going to happen. And when it did, you weren't close enough." Tucking a piece of knotted hair behind Spencer's ear, Toby continued, trying not to choke on his voice. "Aria was a friend to us. But she was also a daughter and a sister. I get it. She had a family, and you were part of it even if not by blood."

When Spencer finally calmed down enough, she still had to keep her burning eyes closed. "She was special," she croaked in barely a whisper.

"I know," Toby comforted her, rubbing her back and holding her closer. "I know." Silently he prayed that Spencer wouldn't see the tear slipping down his own cheek.

After a moment of needed silence, Spencer pulled away and began to collect the belongings on her bed. "I should go see him," she said, finding it hard to look Toby straight in the eye. "Before I lose the courage."

"Are you sure?" Toby asked uncertainly. "Because I can go—"

"No, I'll go," Spencer stated surely. "Thanks for the tea."

As soon as Toby left (but not before giving her a departing hug), Spencer placed the bag next to her bed and nuzzled into the covers again. Once she got some sleep, she told herself, she would go.

…

Still waiting on the sand, Aria watched the sun as it eternally suspended itself above the waves. Time had passed, yet it hadn't, and time or no time she was still no closer to finding out why she was there all in her lonesome.

When Spencer opened her eyes, she found herself standing upright on a beach, but she wasn't alarmed. Instead she let her sensitive pupils adjust to the sudden light and saw a figure crouched on the sand. A weird feeling crept into her stomach, and she lost control of her body. She started walking without even thinking, and her breath hitched in her throat and her mouth went dry when she saw who it was.

The person didn't look up when Spencer approached her, so Spencer took the time to really look her over. She looked so real, Spencer felt like she could reach out and feel the warmth radiate off her skin like she was still alive. But when Spencer did reach out, she stopped and recoiled. Yes, it was Aria, but something about her was…off.

"Aria?" Spencer finally whispered.

The girl who was Aria looked up at her and smiled. "You came," she said in exactly Aria's voice. With a laugh she stood up and studied Spencer head to toe in disbelief. "I can't believe it!"

Licking her lips, Spencer tilted her head. "Am I…dead?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Aria's smile faded and so did the excited gleam in her eyes. Shaking her head, she softly answered, "No, Spence."

Spencer pointed at Aria, attempting to process what was going on. "But you are?"

This time Aria's shoulders sagged and she shifted her gaze to the everlasting waves, the truth finally slapping her in the face after a long time in denial. "Yes," she replied, her voice almost ghostly sounding. "I think I am."

Spencer took a step closer. She thought that if she ever had the chance to see her friend again, she would take her in her arms and never let her go, yet that desire never surfaced. "Do you remember what happened?"

Aria looked down at the grainy ground and weakly nodded her head. "Yes," she responded before looking back at Spencer. "I do." Slowly Aria's hand went up to cover her heart and she could remember the sticky wetness of the blood between her fingers oozing from the exact same spot.

"_Aria, look out!" Emily yelled as soon as she saw the sniper—A—aiming at her. Alarmed, Ezra turned around and bolted away from Spencer and Hanna, who were too shocked to do anything but stand there._

_The shot was deafening, and Ezra had only made it in time for the bullet to only graze his finger. Aria, turning pale, stared at Ezra with wide, shocked eyes as her hands went to her chest. As she fell, Ezra, acting all on impulse, caught her in his arms. Aria could hear her friends crying her name in the background, but she could only hear Ezra's desperate pleas as his hand pressed again Aria's, analyzing the damage that had been done._

"_Aria," Ezra warned her, but she found herself unable to speak. "Don't close your eyes, you hear me?"_

"_Aria," Spencer panted as her face loomed into Aria's view along with Hanna and Emily. _

_Shakily Aria removed her hand from her chest and displayed her bloodied palm. "Oh God," she heard Hanna scream, and then Ezra demanded Spencer to call 911. While she did that, Aria closed her eyes for just a second, death not really crossing her mind._

"_Aria." It was Ezra's voice again. She fluttered her eyes open and noticed he was crying. "You scared me," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Please don't do that again. Please."_

_Parting her dry lips, Aria tried to speak, but instead she closed her fingers over Ezra's jacket just to make sure he was real. She could feel his heart pounding through the think fabric, a sound that had comforted her so many times before. Tears swam in her eyes and she eventually whispered, "I never wanted it to be this way."_

Seeing the distress in Spencer's eyes, Aria reached out and clasped Spencer's hand in her own. Spencer was surprised that her friend wasn't cold to the touch. Her eyes watered over and more tears than she'd ever shed since the moment she'd been told Aria was gone poured down her face. "Does it hurt?" Spencer asked out of guilt.

"You mean here?" Aria pointed to where the bullet wound once was. Spencer nodded. "No," Aria answered, biting her lip to prevent her own tears from overwhelming her. "I don't feel pain anymore, Spence."

Spencer let out a pained cry that was a mix between a sob and a relieved laugh, and she had to pry her eyes away from Aria to regain herself. "That's good," Spencer croaked, making a pattern in the sand with her toe. "I don't want you to hurt anymore."

One corner of Aria's mouth turned up and she took Spencer's other hand too. "I don't," she whispered.

Lips wobbling, Spencer still couldn't believe it was her friend standing in front of her. "I never got to say goodbye."

Aria nodded her head. "I know," she admitted. "I remember you called for help…"

"…But by then it was too late," Spencer finished for her. "You were already gone. And Ezra took it the hardest because he was trying to keep you safe, but instead you died in his arms."

"Ezra," Aria whispered just to say his name. "I tried to tell him I was sorry, but I only got to tell him how I never wanted this to be the end." Aria's eyes bore into Spencer's as she poured out what she couldn't say in the last few minutes of her life. "You know, we talked about running off together. Ezra liked to call it our own Garden of Eden, wherever that may be."

Spencer frowned and tightened her grip on her friend's hands. "I'm sorry, Aria," she said. "But I always did dream of us growing old together."

"Yeah," Aria replied with a scoff, reminiscing back to her short life and when she and Spencer climbed trees together as children. "Me too."

A wave crashed over the sand, catching Spencer and Aria's attention. Sadly Aria pulled away from Spencer and stepped back. "It's time for you to go."

"No," Spencer exclaimed, grabbing for Aria's wrist. "I don't want to leave yet!"

"I'm sorry, Spence," Aria said, turning away. "But you have to. My time here isn't limited like yours."

"Can I at least say something?" Spencer blurted out. "In case this is the last time I see you?"

Aria stopped walking and listened intently to whatever Spencer had to say. "You were my _best_ friend," Spencer began. "You were the sister I'd always wanted to have." Her voice caught in her throat as she realized the intensity of her grief was making it hard to express her words clearly. "And it was so hard to see A take you from me. Your life was too short, and I wish I told you goodbye." Spencer had to pause to compose herself then finished. "And I really, really miss you, Aria. You've been gone for only a week and I wake up every day not knowing how I'll make it through. You were my second half. Now I just feel empty."

Turning around, Aria stared at a broken Spencer and knew what she had to do. She approached her and took her hand again. "I was never really gone."

With that, Spencer threw her arms around Aria and sobbed into her shoulder, unable to hold back her pain any longer. "Thank you," Spencer cried in between sobs. "For being my second half."

Aria hugged her back, missing her companion already. "Goodbye, Spencer."

However, their time was severed short. There was a white flash and Spencer was gone. Aria was all alone again.

…

It was already noon and an unshaven Ezra Fitz, dark circles discoloring the skin under his eyes, had still yet to change out of the same clothes he'd been wearing for the past few days. But instead of getting up and out of his dreary apartment, he stayed indoors torturing himself with perfect memories that were now tainted by unexpected death.

"Ezra!" shrieked Aria as she ran away from the camera, clutching a shirt over her body. "I'm trying to get dressed!"

"Whoops," came Ezra's voice from the other side of the camera. "I didn't notice."

Aria's hand came flying out of nowhere and slammed the camera out of Ezra's hand. It fell to the floor on its side and recorded a pair of feet with pink-painted nails scurry across the carpet. "You're going to pay for that!" Ezra warned her in a mocking tone as his feet also flew across the screen.

"No!" Aria squealed from out of view. "Ezra, put me down! Stop!" But she couldn't stop laughing, so Ezra didn't take her seriously and continued to tease her off screen.

Ezra remembered that moment clearly. It was cliché and giggly, but to Ezra it was precious. Normally Aria wouldn't let him record anything; now he was glad he'd convinced her otherwise.

The screen changed to a different setting: a book store. "What are you buying?" Ezra asked behind the camera, focusing in on Aria intently reading the back of a book. She shoved the cover, which had a drawing of a boy with black hair, glasses, and a lightning bolt-shaped scar on his head, in the camera's face and exclaimed, "_Harry Potter_, you geek!"

She uncovered the screen and Ezra focused the camera on her flipping the pages intensely. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. _I'm_ the geek?" Ezra said, appalled. "_You're _the one buying _Harry Potter._"

Aria placed the book under her arm so she could grab another one, raising one eyebrow at the camera. "There is nothing _geeky _about reading Harry Potter." Again her hand came in contact with the camera lens and knocked Ezra backwards a little bit. He was able to steady it and catch her strutting down the aisle, seven books in hand. "Nerd," Ezra called out, teasing her.

"Loser," Aria said back, turning around to wink at him before disappearing around a corner.

Ezra's morose thoughts full of regret and loneliness that were being summoned by the videos were disrupted by a knock at his door. "It's unlocked," he called out, hitting the pause button on the remote.

When Spencer entered Ezra's gloomy apartment, the first thing she saw was Aria's paused image in mid-laughter on the screen. Sighing, she set down the bag on the counter and shook her head in disappointment. "Ezra," she berated him while grabbing the remote. "I told you not to watch these."

On the other hand, Ezra didn't really care. He just took the remote back and set it next to him before continuing to stare at the paused screen. "I brought you something," Spencer said, giving up on him. "Actually, a few things…" She pulled out the book and handed it to him.

At first Ezra just held it in his hands, not fully understanding the value of the book. Then he flipped it open to the first page and saw the note he'd left two years ago. His finger traced the corners, the same corners she'd touched many times by the looks of the worn-out, bent edges. Spencer dumped the rest of the stuff off onto his coffee table, ready to rip the bandage off instead of peel it slowly.

Ezra stared at the objects, his nose catching a flowery scent he was all too familiar with: Aria's perfume. Something he wasn't sure he'd smell again.

Spencer was worried by Ezra's lack of reaction. He took a few glances over the stuff, opening the poetry book to a poem titled "B-26," studying intently a coaster that read "Snookers Bar and Grille." But after looking through all of that he sat back down in his seat, reached for the remote, and simply said, "Thank you."

He hit Play on the remote control and Aria's laughed penetrated the heavy air. "Why do you have to bring that thing everywhere?" she whined jokingly, digging her spoon into a cup of frozen yogurt. She was outside, and by the sun in the sky and the tank top she was wearing it had to be summer. Spencer recognized where she was. It was a local frozen yogurt shop, a place Aria had frequented because of her sweet tooth.

In silence and respect Spencer sat down on the arm of the couch and watched the video with Ezra. The Ezra on the screen replied, "Because I want to record every moment you're happy."

Aria rolled her eyes and the wind picked up her hair, blowing it behind her shoulders. She shoved her spoon into her cup and swirled the contents around. "You're _such_ a hopeless romantic," she scoffed, shaking her head as though she pitied him. But then a smile came over her face and she put the spoon in her mouth. "But that's why I love you."

Spencer bit her lip and glanced down worriedly at Ezra. How could he watch these and be so put together? Ezra, sensing he should listen to Spencer, hit the pause button, which again captured a still image of Aria.

"Ezra," Spencer spoke up in a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Ezra replied, also quiet. He was tempted to grab another beer from his fridge but knew better. "Me too."

"Toby picked these up, and I just wanted you to have them," Spencer explained right to the point. "They don't mean much to me anyway." She reached out and picked up a journal. "Except maybe this. But Aria would come back and strangle me if I read her diary. Besides, all she probably talks about is you anyway." Sighing, Spencer flipped to a page and read a sentence. _He told me if we were to run away together, we would have to live in a lush place where expectation didn't exist and where people didn't judge us for our differences; a place like our own Garden of Eden, a place where we wouldn't care together_. Of course, Spencer was reminded to what Aria had told her in her dream. She would have told Ezra about that, but it was something she wanted to keep to herself, something no one could ruin because it would be completely hers.

Propped open to that exact page, Spencer handed the book to Ezra and said, "You meant a lot to her. In some ways you were her entire world."

Ezra's heart sunk as he remembered the past few weeks and how he'd hurt her, which had in return shattered him. _I don't even know who you are, _she had told him brokenly. Skimming the page, a memory tickled in the back of Ezra's mind; he did remember saying this. It was a young lovers' paradise, this Eden, and a romantic's perfect vision, so obviously he and Aria talked about their impeccable place a lot before everything had fallen apart.

"I have to go," Spencer finally said, swinging the empty bag over her shoulder. However, Ezra didn't respond, and Spencer didn't want to wait for a response that might never come. "See you later."

After Spencer left, Ezra flipped through the pages carefully as though the book was an ancient artifact. He read articles about Mike, her parents, and her friends. He found ones that dated back to September 1, 2010 where Aria gushed about the new guy she had met. Going forward, she expressed her desire to keep seeing him, something she called "an invisible line" that constantly tugged her in his direction. She documented the first time she told him she loved him, and the heartbreak from various short-lasting breakups. Sometimes he imagined the memories with color, and others in black and white. It was a beautiful, complicated love story, severed by an abrupt end to be forever unfinished.

Shakily Ezra picked up the remote and returned his attention to the videos. The image shifted again and Aria, along with Ezra and the camera, were completely under the covers. She lied on her stomach with her head lounging on the crook of her elbow. Ezra remembered filming this, a serious moment under the sheets, and had pulled out the camera after he had asked her a question he'd been longing to know the answer to.

She didn't protest like she usually did. Instead she sighed before looking straight into the camera lens. "I want to travel," she began her ramble. "I especially want to see Europe again, but I really want to see the world. I want to go to college, graduate, and travel. And after that, I want to settle down, maybe marry and have a couple kids. But first I want to see the world and write it all down, turn it into a story. Psychologically examine it. Or maybe narrate it through the eyes of an anthropologist, uncover its mysteries." Shrugging, she shifted a bit and fell into deep thought.

The blood pounded in his ears and Ezra stopped the video. He knew exactly what was going to happen next. He was going to ask her if she saw herself with anybody, and she was going to tell him she saw herself with him.

Hitting play, the movie continued. "Do you see yourself with anybody in these dreams?" he asked her, exactly as Ezra thought.

Aria blinked and stared back into the camera, except she wasn't looking at the camera: She was looking at Ezra. "Yeah," she whispered, barely audible. "I see you."

Though the seriousness of the video was too much to handle in such a sensitive period of time, Ezra couldn't find the strength to turn it off. "You don't have to lie," the Ezra in the video said in a hushed voice.

"Who says I'm lying?" Aria replied. Ezra felt like he was being tortured by the many raw emotions reflecting off of her eyes, and he clenched his jaw from the tension. He had to stop watching, yet he couldn't. "I don't see myself with anybody else. You're it for me. Call it God or intuition, but…" She stopped, looking away from the camera. "I've always known you were it for me."

Ezra's hand slammed down on the remote, and the video paused before the TV screen flashed black. Hearing Aria speak so certainly of a future she'd never have stabbed Ezra in the heart like the sharpest knife. It hurt more than the bullet graze on his finger, the bullet he would have gladly taken if he had only been faster or closer. She would have lived, and to Ezra that was all that mattered more than his own pathetic life.

Lying down on the couch, Ezra stared at the ceiling and wondered why he was still breathing. He had always been a believer in soulmates, but he was also a follower that it was unrealistic. And as much as people looked down on their relationship, Aria meant everything to him. She was the new family he'd been so reluctant to let in, afraid that it would only end like his relationship with his parents and brother. Now he only wished he could tell her that.

After all, she had always challenged him to tell her something she didn't know.

…

"Ezra."

When Ezra woke up from his unplanned nap, he was surprised to find that he was not in his apartment, but instead being blinded by the shining sun. Groaning, he blinked his eyes and saw a blurry form standing above him. Once his eyes adjusted, he had to fight the urge to rub them in disbelief. There, sitting next to him, the sun causing her silhouette to glow like an angel's, was Aria.

"Ezra," she reiterated, a smile overcoming her face as he awakened. A tear slid down her cheek and Ezra reached out and wiped it away with his thumb, surprised that he was able to touch her.

"Aria," he whispered, sitting up quickly. The breath was nearly knocked out of his lungs just by their close proximity. This had to be a dream, he thought. There was no way this was happening. She was _gone._

"You came too," Aria said, instinctually putting her hand on the back of Ezra's neck. "Though I'm not that surprised."

Ezra grazed Aria's stretched arm with his hand, still in shock. "I have so much to say," he confessed, "but I don't even know where to start."

"Then let me," Aria suggested, ready to finish her amends. Her fingers played with the hair at the nape of Ezra's neck, an action that comforted her greatly. "I tried to tell you this the night I passed, but it was practically impossible to speak. I wanted to tell you that I was sorry for reacting like I did. Honestly, even if I was alive right now I probably wouldn't forgive you for a while. What you did broke me, Ezra. You lied to me for a really long time, but that doesn't matter to me now. I've been spending hours on this beach with nothing to do but think. And when thinking became too painful, I remembered what it was like to be alive and in love. Then I was reminded that none of it would have happened if I hadn't walked through that door at that time." Now Aria clasped her hands together at the back of his neck. "And despite what I told you in the past few days, I don't regret any of it."

Ezra mindlessly wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger, something he used to do a lot because Aria didn't mind it. "Me neither," he said after a few beats of silence. "I wouldn't take any of it back."

"Even the sad moments in black and white?"

"Yes," Ezra admitted. "Not even those."

Despite her heart feeling lighter, another stray tear fell down Aria's cheek and the joyous grin that had been on her face faded away. "We changed a lot in two years," she started to say. "Once upon a time I was that broken teenage girl showing up at your doorstep because I was convinced I had nowhere else to go, and now I can't go home even if I wanted to." Ezra's fragile heart sunk to the pit of his stomach hearing Aria say that, yet another reminder that this bliss wasn't going to last forever.

Parting his lips, Ezra struggled with what to say. "I did lie about a lot of things, Aria." He broke one of her hands from their clasp and gently grazed his thumb over the back of it. Here she was, the person he'd been longing to see, and he couldn't even look her in the eye. "But like I tried to tell you, I never lied about my feelings for you."

Aria took her other hand and placed it over Ezra's. For a moment she just reveled in the feeling of touching someone else, something she won't be doing for a long time. "I already knew—_know_—that," she confessed. "But I was upset—"

"You had every right to be," Ezra interrupted her. Now that he'd gotten some of his feelings out, he was ready to explode with all that he had to say. "I was going to tell you. But then a week passed, and then a month. Keeping it a secret seemed better than opening a can of worms in a relationship I was getting addicted to, and what we were building was so young and weak in the beginning that it would have broken irreparably if that was revealed. That weekend at the cabin I came so close, and I only came out desperate and irrational because I thought Spencer was getting closer to figuring it out and—"

"Ezra, calm down," Aria shushed him, giggling softly. Whenever he got caught in rambles like this, barely able to dig himself out without assistance, she knew he was conflicted. "I know why you did what you did. If I had known that this was going to be how our story ended, I would have accepted that weekend at the cabin without another thought."

However, Ezra wasn't done, even with Aria's interruption. "I felt like we were breaking apart."

"Like our story was changing, maybe for the worst," Aria added.

"And our time was limited. I felt it as soon as I saw Spencer putting the pieces together. I told you before, I wasn't ready to give you up, especially now that I'd gotten you back."

Aria bent her head down so that her hair fell in front of her and she focused on her finger drawing lines in the sand. "At first I didn't know it, but I was alive up until I crossed that border where the trees meet the beach. If I had known that I would have stayed. But I crossed it, and somewhere you watched me take my last breath." The corners of her lips fell from the reminder of the memory, and Ezra's forehead wrinkled in confusion from the change of topic. "I could hear you. You were begging for me to open my eyes."

"Yeah," Ezra croaked, biting the inside of his cheek. "I did."

Sighing, Aria scooted away from Ezra, who was concerned by her sudden movement. "Where are you going?" he asked, alarmed.

"Nowhere yet," she said. "But I'm not tied to this place forever. You know just as well as I do that you'll wake up soon and I'll be gone."

Ezra scoffed and shook his head, gulping away the lump in his throat. "Last time I said we weren't tied to this place, I was talking about Rosewood, not the world."

"Ezra." Aria reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "I'm okay."

"How can you be okay?" snapped asked, frustrated. "You never got to escape that place. You were going to travel the world, go to college. Instead the enemy finally got what he wanted, not realizing how many people he'd hurt…"

"Listen, Ezra. _We_ were going to do those things. But look at me, please. I'm okay. See? I'm okay now."

"I just keeping thinking," Ezra spilled out as his pent-up tears also watered over, "how I still have so much to say, and now that you're here I can't let you go. Not again. It was hard enough the first time."

"Ezra," Aria warned him. She tried to pull her hand away, but he grabbed her wrist.

"No! I'm not ready," he exclaimed. "I wasn't ready the first time easier." For some reason Ezra felt an indescribable anger overtake him. "Why did you have to bring me here, huh? To torture me by telling me I can't have you? First it was the law, then it was your dad, then it was you. I can't have you telling me the same thing again. It would kill me."

Once Ezra was finished, Aria stood up and slipped her wrist out of Ezra's hand before offering it to him. "You once told me," Aria said as Ezra got up on his feet, "that what we had was the most real and honest thing in your life." Shrugging, she let go of his hand and now had to look up at him because of their height difference. "And I said I already know how you feel about me. Ezra, that's still true even now. You don't need to tell me what I already know."

Shoulders slumping, Ezra knew what she was getting at. "Is this goodbye then?"

Aria tilted her head to the side, a look of concentration on her face. "I don't like to think of it as goodbye," she said. "Goodbye is never really goodbye for us, is it?"

"No," Ezra admitted with a weak laugh. "It's not." His eyes drifted down to her neck, and he was shocked that he hadn't noticed the silver chain before. "Your locket," he exclaimed, reaching out his finger to smooth over the engraved letter A.

"Yeah," Aria said, cupping it in her hands. "You buried me with it, I guess."

"I wanted you to always have it," he explained. "It felt selfish keeping it to myself as a reminder when I had so many grateful memories in my head."

Aria smiled sweetly, cracking it open and staring at the pictures. One was of their first picture together as a couple, and another was of their first outing after they made their relationship public. Her thumb ran over that picture; she looked so happy. "Thank you." Then, because there was nothing left to really say, she stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek. "Don't mope around forever," Aria whispered when she pulled away. "For my sake."

Ezra watched as Aria turned around and started walking away, her white dress blowing behind her. He shoved his hands in his pockets; his heart ached. He should have told her he loved her like the last time they said goodbye like this, but like Aria said she already knew how he felt about her.

"Wait," Ezra cried out without thinking. Aria halted and looked over her shoulder, her hands still clasping her locket. "Why do you always walk away from me?"

One corner of Aria's lips turned up in a half-smile. Finally, a question she could really answer without the fear of being wrong or conflicted. "Because I know you'll always come back for me."

As Aria turned away, she thought deeply of the man she was leaving behind. She'd been cruelly ripped away from him, her friends, and her family, but she wasn't about to hold a grudge now that she had made her true last amends. It was time to move forward.

Meanwhile, Ezra was walking away in the other direction. His heart was racing in his chest, and suddenly he reacted on impulse and he whipped around, ready to run back to her.

But she was already gone.

…

When Ezra jolted out of sleep, he immediately jumped off of the couch and ran to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water. Had that really just seen her, talked to her, touched her? By the bloodshot eyes staring back at him through the mirror, he knew it was real.

After taking several deep breaths and drying his face, Ezra studied the apartment around him. Everything reminded him of her, from the couch to the dining table to the kitchen counter. But then he saw Aria's things splayed out on the coffee table.

Picking up the book, he noticed a page had been marked and a quote had been highlighted. "Love is like a wind stirring the grass beneath trees on a black night," Ezra read out loud. "You must not try to make love definite. It is the divine accident of life. If you try to be definite and sure about it and to live beneath the trees, where soft night winds blow, the long hot day of disappointment comes swiftly and the gritty dust from passing wagons gathers upon lips inflamed and made tender by kisses." When he finished, Ezra chuckled to himself. That was Aria all right, a romantic at heart.

Reading the book aloud triggered a series of memories in Ezra's head. He remembered that Aria had liked it when he had read to her, mostly because she fell into a sound sleep when he spoke and also because she enjoyed his humorous interpretations of the characters. Sitting down on the bed, Ezra turned on the lamp and crawled onto his side, staring at the empty right side where Aria had once slept a couple nights a week.

"Chapter four," Ezra read, then paused. It was slightly awkward that he was talking to an empty spot. But the more he thought about it, the more he was able to picture Aria curled next to him, wearing one of his oversized shirts and listening intently as though she was a child being read a bedtime story. And that was exactly how he wanted to remember her.

Turning his attention back to the book, Ezra found it easier to smile as he thought of Aria's life and not her death. "Chapter four," he repeated. "The fruition of the year had come and the night should have been fine with a moon in the sky and the crisp sharp promise of frost in the air, but it wasn't that way…"

And from somewhere beyond the world where she waited in peace, Aria listened.


End file.
